


In Good Hands

by Geonn



Category: TV Commercials
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crossover, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 16:31:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All women go through a "bad boy" phase. This isn't hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Good Hands

All her friends tell her she's wasting her time. He's not the kind to settle down, and trouble follows him wherever he goes. They tell her to look for someone good, like that new coworker of hers who calls himself 'The Messenger,' but she's happy right where she is. They only see the gruff exterior that he shows to the world. If he's not strapping himself to the roof of a family's car, he's huddled on the console of someone else's car pretending to be the GPS. She doesn't pretend to understand _why_ he does these things, she just worries that one day he'll go one crazy step too far and he'll pay the price.

At the end of the day, she comes home to find him either in the bathtub or curled in their bed. She doesn't even bother taking off her work clothes; he once told her he likes his crisp and clean and perfect they are compared to the destruction of his life. His apartment is always in disarray, no matter how often she cleans it up for him. Sparks leap from the toaster. The television constantly falls off the wall but it's never broken beyond repair. Wires fizzle inside the walls awaiting the moment to begin a massive fire. His house is always on the verge of disaster, and she's the only constant, safe thing in his life.

She gets him out of his suit and sits him on the edge of the bathtub. She cleans his new wounds and removes his old bandages. She tends to him lovingly, kisses the bruises and cleans the dried blood away from his scrapes. She runs the shower as hot as she can (which isn't very hot, since the water heater is on its last legs) and scrubs his skin until it turns pink.

He takes her face in his hands and stares at her. She can see their reflection in the mirror: his hair stands in spikes while hers is in perfect form. Her eyes are wide and blue like crystal, while he squints to hide the stormy black-blue of his eyes. His jaw is sharp enough to cut; hers is soft and rounded. 

Yet when they kiss, he is soft and she is the one eager for more. The water splashes on her uniform, turning some of the white parts gray. His tongue teases her lips and hers thrusts into his mouth. She moves her hands from the side of the tub, teasing his hips before she takes his cock in her hand. He gasps and breaks the kiss, and she kneels in front of him.

Her cheek brushes his hip, his cock resting against her cheek. She kisses the shaft. "My poor little raccoon," she whispers, kissing from base to tip before taking him into her mouth.

She hears his satisfied grunt as he begins to thrust. She cups his balls with her hand while the other strokes him slowly, and she knows his body is arching with pleasure at her touch. She circles his tip with her tongue, takes his full length into her mouth, and moans as she slowly slides back up. She tickles him with her tongue, and he grunts that he's close.

She uses her lips and tongue on him until he comes, and she swallows what she can. He grunts with each spasm, filling her mouth as he utters her name (how lucky, she thinks, that her name is a single syllable? So easy to grunt in a moment of passion) and her throat works to take as much of it as possible. Her reward for treating him so kindly after his day of destruction.

Afterward, he takes her into the bedroom and takes off her uniform. The shirt and skirt seem to become soiled almost as soon as they land, the white turning gray and the seams turning frayed. He turns her away from him, presses against her back, and runs his hands over her curves. He cups her breasts and pinches her nipples the way she once told him to. His palms flatten over her stomach and push down, one hand pulling her against him as the other cups her mound. He kisses her neck as he fingers her, taking her to the edge but not quite over it.

She gasps his name and says, "Now," and he pushes her down. She puts her hands on the edge of the bed, bites her lip, and groans as he fills her. It takes hardly any time at all before she's coming, his fingers working her clit as his cock moves easily into her. They're both crying out when she comes, and he moves his hands to the middle of her back as she grinds her hips into his. He comes a second time, and she shudders as she feels him throbbing inside of her.

When they can move, she crawls onto the bed. He follows and spoons her from behind. He cups her breast with one hand, the other on her stomach as he kisses her shoulder. A framed picture on the wall falls and the glass shatters. The roof collapses in the ceiling because of a busted water pipe. She can hear the water beginning to flood the hallway as she drifts off to sleep.

She stays with him for one reason, something her friends will never understand: Mayhem might be a bane on society, but he will never hurt her. 

She knows she's in good hands with him.


End file.
